


Reassignment

by D4tD (dance4thedead), Xbertyx



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Comfort Sex, F/M, Gender Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Terminal Illnesses, workplace drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:09:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4374902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance4thedead/pseuds/D4tD, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xbertyx/pseuds/Xbertyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William and Grell's romantic relationship is put to the test when a change in William's schedule prevents the couple from seeing each other at work and at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dragging me away from you.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the form of a round-robin.

Reassignment. William clenched his hands beneath the desk of the dispatch department's human resources manager. His low cut nails dug crescents into his palms, and his knuckles he knew must be a bloodless white. It felt like his tie was trying to choke the air out him for the first time since his days at the academy. This was cruel. This was beyond the evils of paperwork and overtime. William was forced to lock his legs to the chair he was sitting in to prevent himself from jumping up and hacking the incompetent bureaucrat in two with his death scythe.  

As the other man left, his hands shot up to grip the paper, before he tore it into shreds. As if destroying the paper would change the decision that had been forced upon him. As if it would destroy the predicament he was now facing. He would no longer be able to see the beautiful face of one red reaper at the dispatch. The face of his one and only, of his true love. The torn scraps of paper fell from his hands and he let his head fall into his outstretched palms. This was a truly dire situation. Just how was he going to break the news to his love, the fiery female reaper, Grell Sutcliff?

He rose and crossed to the door leading back to the main part of the office. William opened it and was immersed in the familiar frenzy: Coffee gophers and interns milling around the cubicles. Ronald with his feet on his desk, picking through a manila folder while ringing up one of the girls downstairs. Alan and Eric pretending to work a case, but clearly just eyefucking each other. Both Grell and his wallet were at home for today and the cash in his pocket wouldn't cover a full bouquet; a single flower as an apology would have to suffice.  

He spent the next few hours at work worried about just how he was going to explain such a huge change to his partner. He knew she wouldn't be happy. In fact, he was quite sure she would be nothing but angry, probably flying into a rage as soon as he finished his first sentence. The clock clicked forward at an awfully slow pace and he seemed adjust his glasses nervously every second minute. Finally, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, his shift ended and he headed home, unsure of just how he would be able to comfort his love without getting sawn to pieces.

 

* * *

 

The loaf of banana bread was baking itself a black crust before Grell decided it was time to pull it out from the oven's wrath. It was a good thing the department wasn’t stingy with their paychecks. Both she and William counted their blessings for that when Grell moved in two months ago. Anytime the two them wanted to eat something that wasn’t smashed between two slices of bread they would have to order out. Will wouldn't touch a baking sheet if his continued existence depended on it, and Grell tried to cook sometimes, but she always ended up making assorted mounds of mush or ash. But her lover didn't desire any form of measured perfection from her outside the office. He was good about leaving his work and rank at the front door. She smiled, thinking about how Will always tried to hold his laughter in when he came home to her kitchen disasters, being the lovely stoic man he is. Oh Undertaker, was this the reason you had in mind when you gave us that bag full of week old fruit?

Her heart fluttered when she heard the front door open. Her cold prince had returned. She couldn't wait for him to try her cooked abomination, his face as he tried to swallow the charred remains was always such a treat. Her good mood came to a crashing halt when she saw the expression on his face. He looked worried, but more than that. His usually calm face housed a look of deep upset. She walked closer to him. "Will, my darling, whatever is the matter?"

William couldn't meet her eyes. The most gorgeous cherry red rose was pulled out from inside his suit jacket and placed in her hands. Grell laughed to herself; he knew her so well. She wrapped her arms around him, one slung around to hold him above the hips and the other pressed against the small of his back. She leant in to kiss him wild and reckless for remembering today marked a year since they first started seeing each other outside of work. Their lips met the way they had a million times before, but something was still off. William kissed her back, closed mouthed and chaste, while gently untangling himself from her embrace.

He looked at her with nothing but seriousness. "Grell, there's an important matter I must speak with you about."

Concern spread across her face. Was he leaving her? No, he couldn't be. If that were the case, he wouldn't have brought a rose to her. "What … what is it, darling?"

William adjusted his glasses a few times, his nerves getting the best of his usually calm demeanor. "It's a matter at work. I'm very sorry, but I'm being reassigned. I … won't be working the same shifts as you any longer. I'm also being moved to another department, the opposite side of the branch to your office. I'm very displeased by the decision. It was not my choice to make. I'm … so sorry."


	2. Wise crack.

Grell blinked. Either her man suddenly grew a sense of humor that rivaled a certain retired reaper, or he actually meant their jobs were trying to sequester them. It made no sense … they hadn't done anything wrong! Office romances weren't forbidden by the department as long as their productivity didn't suffer, and their numbers were well above all the other dispatch officers. Her eyebrows tilted inward and her head shook in disbelief.

Suddenly and without warning, she jumped forward and gave William a hard, open palmed slap across the face. Before his brain could even register or think of a way to reply, she turned on her heel and stormed up to the bedroom.

Once William realised what had actually occurred, he followed her upstairs. The bedroom door was locked and all he could make out from behind it was sobs and loud bangs, as the furniture of the room was worn apart. William tried the knob, knowing full well Grell had thrown the bolt. He pressed his forehead to the painted wood, hating and blaming himself for things he had no control over. He felt her pain; he shared it. But right now all he wanted was to absorb all of her sadness into himself, leaving not a drop behind.

“Grell— Grell would you please open the door. We need to talk this through.” A second lamp hit the floor with a crash. “Please … nothing has to change.”

He received no answer, but heard a loud thud from the master bath.

Grell had fallen to her knees, bent over and hands gripping the floor tightly. Loud wails could be heard coming from inside the bedroom as she shrieked at the top of her lungs. "No! This can't be happening. Everything is … going to change! I'll never be able to see you! I … can't do this! I … I need you. I love you so much. Why is this happening? I've done nothing wrong! Why … why are they punishing us?"

William heard the scraping of her heels against the carpet as she got back to her feet. There was an awful crashing sound as the mirror was punched, glass shattering. William realised he couldn't let his love be alone in that room a moment longer. He was terrified of what she may do next.

He stepped away from the door and kicked it harshly. The wood splintered from the lock, but the door didn't open. He tried again and this time the door flew off its hinges. The scene he saw as he entered made his breath catch in his throat.

Grell had always been beautiful to him. She was resilient, fearless, and one hell of a dancer. That brilliant flash of red in the night proved that no assignment—even when he instructed her to concede because the risk was too high—was worth backing down from. He loved the way she brushed off any insecurity and challenged the world to try to find any fault in her. And there would be none to find. Where on others you would find flaws, on her those aspects she would embrace as the fundamental parts of herself that made her irreplaceable. To William, that made her stronger than him, stronger than anyone he knew. He had thought the woman possessed no weakness. Yet here she was, down on all fours like a wounded animal, her bloodied lacerated fist dripping on to the rug, with tears falling from her pretty little eyes. Because the only weakness of the strongest person alive … was him.  

William ran and sank down on his knees next to his beauty and pulled her into his chest. He held her tightly, even as she tried to pull away.

Angry, hurt tears continued to fall from her eyes. He wouldn't let go, until he had comforted her, until he had tried to mend her now breaking heart. Eventually she stopped struggling and cuddled into his chest, sobs racking her tiny frame.  William rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles. "It's okay Grell. It's all going to be okay, I promise you. I'm going to fix this."

She spoke between her cries, body starting to tremble uncontrollably. "I need you Will. I just cannot bear to face a day without you."

He moved his hand to cup her chin gently, kissing her softly. Pulling away, he spoke once more. "Tomorrow I shall put everything right. You will be back in my arms once more, my love."

Grell nodded dumbly, relaxing into him. Her hand was almost healed, but she was not. Tomorrow … what a dreadful thought. Tomorrow they would both be assigned new partners at the dispatch. After that they would never be home at the same time. They would be living in the same home, under the same roof, but not together.

The pair watched the red rose floating head down in the toilet bowl, the petals sopping up the filthy water. It really had been an attractive flower, but being cut from its plant meant that it was already as good as dead. Fate and science insured that. The lovers held on to each other for as long as they could, neither caring to move to their bed. They fell asleep on the floor, leaning against the sink, sheltered in each others arms.

 


	3. An expression of sorrow.

_Day One_

William woke up around three a.m. to find Grell cradled in his arms. He took her into the now disheveled bedroom and laid them both in bed. He pulled the covers over them and spooned her from behind with cuddles. Grell had three hours before she would have to get up and get ready for work. William couldn't get back to sleep, worrying just how his love would cope with the first day of work without him. How she would cope, not being able to run into his office for kisses and gentle hugs every hour?

He lay awake, his nose pressed into her warm skin. He breathed in her scent, trying to brand it into his memory. No, she would be fine without him, wouldn’t she? He was that one that needed her by his side. Deep within him a great sadness welled up, and tears started to trickle down his cheeks. He let out a choked sob and prayed that should a benevolent god exist, they wouldn’t rouse his lover from her serenity. He sniffled like a child as a thousand thoughts rushed through his mind. He stared at the fuzzy red glow of the alarm clock's display, struggling to make out the numbers as it counted up the minutes. William wiped his face on the sheets, a sense of determination taking hold of his spirit. Grell would not go out alone today. A company man to the core, his loyalty to the dispatch was limited by his devotion to his partner. If the department failed to recognize that, perhaps a demonstration was in order.

The alarm sounded through the bedroom, pulling William from this worried thoughts. Grell stirred and smiled up at him, before her memories of last night returned. Her face became one of sorrow and tears once again slipped from her eyes.

William tried to comfort her, pulling her into a tight hug. "It'll all work out in the end Grell, I promise. I'm going to come into work with you early today to help you get settled in."

A small smile graced her features. "Really?"

William kissed her softly and as they parted lips, he spoke again. "Yes, really. I love you."

"I love you too, Will.

 

* * *

 

Grell and William strode on to the office floor of the Dispatch Department, hand in hand. The flurry of hands shuffling paperwork ceased instantly, and gossipy whispers dipped into silence as the chatters were quickly hushed by their neighbors. The lovers felt every set of eyes in the room slowly turn to them.

Grell threw back her head, smiling wide. “Honey, they noticed! I was afraid the little trim I gave myself this morning would be overlooked.” She flipped back her vibrant bangs and twirled around for the gawkers. Her theatrics received a rare nod of approval from William.

Ronald came over to them, a coffee in each hand. “Morning senpai!” he said, handing the flamboyant woman a cup as he turned to the elephant in the room. “Boss, what are you doin’ here?”

William's eyebrow twitched slightly. "I work here obviously, reaper Knox." Grell giggled slightly at that comment, but deep down she was worried as to where this conversation was heading.

Eric walked up to the group, having heard the conversation so far. "Ye, but Knoxie means that you shouldn't be in work at this this time. Your hours have been switched remember?"

William eyed the pair with annoyance. "I am well aware of my current working hours, Mr Slingby. Please mind your own business in future. You might actually complete some paperwork then."

Grell tried to smooth over the tension she was feeling between the three males. "Now, now, my darlings, please play nice. Will just came here to spend some time with me." She cooed, fluttering her eyelashes from behind her glasses.

“Fine. You want to stay, you’re no bother to me. But remember me when you go and think no one was warning ye,” Eric pushes past them to the break room.

Ronald’s face clouded with uncharacteristic worry. “Boss, ya know he’s right. I love both of you, and I don’t want the department to … ” His gaze caught a familiar face making its way towards them. “Hide.”

It was too late. “Spears. My office. Now,” ordered the HR manager, ice cold and dry.

...

William followed him to the office. Once inside the manger turned to him. "Why are you here, Spears? You are well aware your shift has changed. You shouldn't even be in this area of the association anymore."

"I know sir, I was just—"

The manager cut him off again. "You know you are not permitted to be on site, if you are not on shift or doing preapproved overtime. Do I make myself clear?"

"Quite, Sir. Understood."

The manager eyed him from behind regulation black frames. “You’ve got something more to say, Spears?”

William swallowed, summing up the courage on loan to him by his lover. “Yes. I do.”

The reaper raised an eyebrow. “You know William, I don’t think I like the way Mr Sutcliff is rubbing off on you.”

William glared daggers at him. "MISS Sutcliff hasn't affected my attitude or approach to work in the slightest. However, I think human resources has made a grave error in placing me in a new department. Collections has been nothing but a success since I took over as supervisor here."

The manager's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to say, Spears?"

"That I want you to move me back to my rightful place in this branch."

The manager crossed his arms. "We cannot do that. Our decision is final. I cannot move you back."

"Then I'll just have to find someone who will. Good day, sir." William said, as he turned his back on the manager and stormed out of the door.


	4. We're fighting? No! It can't be!

Grell managed to intercept her fuming boyfriend as he was making a beeline for the elevator. Her half finished coffee was in one hand and a bundle of active case files was cradled in her other. The redhead had to practically body block him to stop the man from getting away. “Will, what happened? What did he say?”

“That despicable lesion of a m—” he hissed out.

Grell’s face knit with concern. “Darling, calm down. Why don’t you start by telling me where you’re going?”

“Where do you think I’m going? I’m going straight to the council! I will not allow anyone to—”

“He insulted me again, didn’t he?” Grell exhaled and closed her eyes for a brief moment, drawing on her own reserve inner calm. “It’s okay. Just go home, Will. I’ll try to hurry home so I can catch you before you leave for work.”

"No, I will not leave. I'm going to the council right this minute. That moron will not embarrass me in such a way."

She shot him a worried look. He never got angry and at that present time he seemed fully enraged. "Darlin—"

"No Grell. This is unacceptable. Don't try to stop me." Before she had a chance to reply, he pushed past her and stormed away, heading for the council hall.

.....

The elevator opened with a ding, admitting a William into the cab. There doors were nearly closed by the time Grell rushed in next to him.

“Grell I told you not to—” he warned.

“NO William. You WILL NOT tell me what not to do. You’re not acting like yourself, and I don’t like you like this!” Her eyes began to glisten. Coffee and paper fell to the floor. “Oh no … this can’t be us, Will. We can’t be fighting … we can’t—”

William's eyes softened at seeing her upset. He pulled her into a hug and soothed her hair. "Shhh,  it's okay. I have no intention of causing us to argue. I'm sorry I got mad. That idiot has just irritated me."

She snuggled up into his chest. "What are you even going to say to the council?"

William suddenly realised that he hadn't a clue. "I'm not ... sure. I'll think of something, don't worry yourself."

The elevator stopped.

Grell gave him one last long, tender kiss, before they parted. William turned around and left the elevator, heading onto the top floor of the building.

.....

Grell was at her desk, trying to clear her mind by immersing herself in the case file of a forty two year old member of the Scotland Yard, when Ronald strolled into her cubicle.

“Hey Senpai!” 

He reached over her work area to a plastic cup full of sweets and pens, selecting a mint and popping it into his mouth.

Grell swiveled in her chair, mustering a weak smile. “Ronnie, what do you need this time?”

“Nothing,” the reaper said with a shrug as he kidnapped the container of goodies and propped his weight against a metal cabinet. “Can’t a man check up on a pretty lady?”

“You’re too sweet. Come on, what’s on your mind?”

Ronald stirred the pens around. “There’s something you should know about Alan if the council lets Will move back to our department.”

.....

A few minutes later, one of the council members agreed to see William. Walking into his office, he turned around to William as he followed him through the door and closed it. "What can I help you with, Mr Spears?"

William pushed his glasses up his nose, before speaking. "I would like to be moved back to collections. I find it quite unprofessional how I was not informed about the reassignment or even asked if I was willing to move departments."

"Oh? You weren't asked about such a move? You would like me to put you back in collections?" The man said, as he picked up up a file from his desk.

"Yes, sir. At once."

The man flicked through the file. "Yes, I would be able to do that. However, Mr Alan Humphries would take your place, including your shift."

William hadn't a reply. If he accepted, Alan and Eric would be parted in the same way he and Grell were now. He now had to choose between upsetting his love or having to cope with Eric's blinding rage.  

“The choice is yours. Go home and think it over, Spears. Don’t come in for your shift tonight either. I want you to give me a final decision tomorrow afternoon.”

William already knew what his choice would have to be. “Yes, sir,” he said, before he ported himself home.

  
Grell would never forgive him.


	5. How long does he have left?

_"There’s something you should know about Alan if the council lets Will move back to our department. I had to take him into the infirmary last night after a real nasty assignment …"_  
  
The conversation she had with Ronald earlier that day kept replaying in her mind. She was so selfish, how could she be upset about her situation when poor Alan—poor Eric …  
  
She opened the door to William’s apartment, glad to finally be home. The first thing that greeted her was the smell of strawberry shortcake, fresh from the oven. She sighed, even such a heartfelt gesture wouldn’t be enough to uplift her spirit.  
  
She walked into the kitchen, stomach rumbling from both hunger and concern over Alan's condition.  
  
William looked up from his slice of shortcake, as she entered. “I have spoken with the council, however there is an issue I must discuss with you, before I tell them my decision. It's regarding Mr Humphries.”  
  
Grell eyed the ground, guilt pressing down on her from her seemingly selfish previous mindset. "Yes … it's such a shame. Poor Alan.”  
  
Will’s fork was laid on the side of his plate, and the man rose to hand Grell her own serving. He couldn’t meet her eyes either. If he did, he’d break. “I never wanted to have to choose between you and work, but Grell, you understand that … that as their leader … I can’t let Alan—”  
  
Grell interrupts, anger welling inside of her to mask her grief. “There’s nothing you can do, Will! There’s nothing any of us can do!”  
  
William shook his head. “I'm sorry, Grell. It's not that I don't want to be around you as much as possible, but I couldn't put Eric through that. He'd be far more upset than we have been."  
  
Grell's eyes widened. “You haven't told Eric, have you? Alan asked us all not to say anything!”  
  
Confusion washed over William, were they still talking about their shifts? "Told Eric what? About our schedule?”  
  
Realisation hit Grell. “You … you don't know?”  
  
“Know what?"  
  
Tears slipped from her eyes. "About Alan. Oh, it's so terrible. I only ... found out today. He ... has the thorns.”  
  
William froze. “No, that’s not … that isn’t … “His head goes light and his knees buckle in.  
  
“Will!” Grell grabbed him by the waist just in time, smearing dessert over both of them as she helped lower him on to the linoleum floor. She knelt down next to him, setting a hand on his shoulder.  
  
William cradled his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. “How long does he have?”  
  
“Ron says the doctor didn’t give him a clear answer. But …”  
  
“But it’s thorns,” William said, his voice empty. “I spoke with the a council member, and he agreed to have my assignment to the other department redacted if Alan took my place. But we can’t … but I can’t … not to them now Grell, don’t you—”  
  
"I know, darling but we need to stay strong for Alan. You're right. We will have to stay separated for now. Helping our friends is more important.”  
  
William looked up and nodded. “Yes, that is our only option at present … I just … can't believe this.”  
  
Grell leant over and kissed him, pushing him down onto the floor. "Let's just take our minds off it for now.” She said with a wink, as their kiss parted. “You have the rest of the day off, don’t you?”  
  
Will turned away, her weight on his chest already affecting him .“Grell, we can’t. Not with everything going on.”  
  
“You don’t want to? Darling, we’re not going to have time to do this after tonight.” She nipped at his bottom lip. “And I need this, Will. Please.”  
  
William eyed her for a second. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he needed this too. He needed to forgot what he had just learnt, for a little while at least.    
  
He rolled them over and slid his hands under her shirt. She giggled, before her lips were pinned under his. He unbuttoned her shirt and slid it off her shoulders. Moving down, he kissed from her chest down to the line of her skirt.    
  
He lifted off her, to pull her skirt and underwear off, before he licked his fingers. Bending down and kissing her fiercely again, he slid two fingers deeply into her. She moaned into the kiss, hips pressing down onto his hand.  
  
He scissored her, before adding a third. He stretched the muscles for a short while, before he pulled his fingers away and flipped her onto her stomach.    
  
His belt was quickly undone, trousers and boxers pulled off. He spat onto his hands and lubed himself up, moving his hands to grip her hips. His tip pressed against her entrance, before he pushed deep inside her. Grell moaned sharply. “Ah … Will, don't you dare hold back. I … I need this so much.”  
  
He started to move within her, his thrusts bringing both of them closer to their escape. He rested his forehead her back, eyes shut. “I … aghn … I need you, Grell.”  
  
“I know … ahh mmh right there.” She tensed up beneath him as he slid back in, brushing right past where she needed it to go.  
  
She felt him soften slightly in her, and hot tears trickling on to her skin. She reached behind her to touch his face, run her fingers through his smooth, gelled hair. “Hey, hey it’s okay Will … aha … But I need you to hold it together for me … mmmh …  I’m too close. Can you do that for me?” She raised her hips off the floor slightly to grind into him nice and slow.  
  
That was what he needed. He slammed into her, losing himself in her embrace. Grell gasped beneath him in pleasure as he drilled hard and fast into her prostate.  
  
“Ahhh Will I’m—” she panted out.  
  
“Ngh … me too.”    
  
With a few more thrusts into her pleasure spot, she tensed. “Ah Will! Harder.” He picked up speed and she moaned his name loudly, releasing onto the floor.  
  
He pressed himself balls deep inside her, before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back hard inside. His eyes slipped shut, as he rode out his orgasm, liquid seeping into her.  
  
He collapsed onto her and more tears fell onto her skin. "Grell … this is just so awful."  
  
She closed her eyes, trying to block out everything in her life but the lovely man above her as she came down from her high. “I know, dear. Just … we have to endure it. That’s the only thing we can do.”


	6. Vigorous exercise.

_Day Two_

 

Grell was pulled out of a the torrent of thoughts swirling in her mind by Ronald snapping his fingers in front of her face. She playfully slapped him away and accepted her coffee from him with a fake smile she knew he saw right through.  
  
Her mind was still at home, with William, and it was difficult thinking of anything else knowing her man was exercising all of his willpower to not port himself right next to her.  
  
“Hey, come on now. If bein’ partnered up with me again is that bad, you don’ have to try to fool me or nothin’.”  
  
She giggled slightly. He always was the first to crack a lame joke in an awful situation. "Oh, no Ronnie. I'm quite looking forward to it."  
  
"Well that's a relief. Lemme' take a look at my ledger." He opened it to today's page. "Oooh,  looks like we're busy lata'"  
  
Grell started to become interested in the conversation. "Really? Why so busy, darling?"  
  
He grinned at her. "Riot in the east end. One hundred and five deaths. Ya' gunna' like this, nice an' bloody."  
  
A manic smile appeared on her face. "I will indeed. I'm glad for it, I'm getting out of shape. I need a some vigorous exercise."  
  
"I'm sure you ge' enough of that already babe." He said, winking. They both laughed and Grell felt herself beginning to cheer up. Ronald really was such a sweet friend.

* * *

  
William sat alone in his apartment. He had already scrubbed, swept, and reorganised every room since Grell left. The bedroom he had cleaned twice. He had seven hours before he was allowed to go to the dispatch, and he had no company he could call over during that time. Everyone he cared to be close to was working at the moment.  
  
He moved to the bedroom, intent on cleaning it for a third time. As he opened the dressing table drawer to begin reorganising it, he spotted a photo album.  
  
The album was covered in red velvet, obviously being Grell's. He opened it and smiled at seeing a picture of the two of them just having graduated to become full time reapers. He had almost forgotten how short Grell's hair had been back then.  
  
He flicked forward a few pages to see a photograph of Grell and Ronald, Ronald beaming widely, as he looked down on his new death scythe.  
  
The turned to the next page and his heart sank. It was a picture of him, Grell, Ronald, Alan and Eric. It was a selfie style picture and he could make out the circus tent behind them. The memories of that night flashed before his eyes. It had been so much fun, even when Alan had nearly gotten eaten by a runaway tiger.  
  
Tears pricked at his eyes. Things would never be the same again. They would never share such memories. Alan would soon be gone, leaving an empty hole in all of their lives. He stayed there for hours, sobbing over the photograph, until finally he was able to return to branch.

* * *

  
By the time Grell arrived home, Will had already left for work. She sighed, her death scythe turning heavy in her hand. She had just missed him; the smell of his aftershave still hung in the air, the pendant lamp that hung in the kitchen was still warm. A few minutes of overtime had been necessary to get herself and Ronald out a bind. She felt red welts forming under her clothes, from a couple of cinematic records that had been rowdier than usual. Serves her right for being so careless on her own.  
  
It wasn’t until she passed the mirror in their bedroom that she realised the extent of her injuries.  
  
She had a large gash across her cheek and her hair was caked in blood, both her own and the rioter's. She shrugged her coat off and unbuttoned her shirt. As it fell to the floor, she turned around. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a large friction burn from the bottom of her back, all the way up to the middle of her spine, from being knocked backwards and sliding against the rough cobble of the street. There were large blisters forming against the red raw skin.  
  
She turned back to face the mirror, seeing a large open cut across her chest; an injury made by her own death scythe. She cringed at the sight. There were also big purple bruises forming up her stomach and scratches all over her arms. She should have never of gotten so close to the rioters.  
  
Looking at her trousers, she could see they were cut to threads, completely beyond repair. In between the cuts in the material, blood was seeping out of slices in the skin of her thighs and she could feel it starting to run down her legs.  
  
She moved to sit down on the bed, feeling weak from blood loss. She sat on something hard and shifted to look down on what it was. It was the photo album, opened to a page showing the page of the reapers' day at the circus. "Oh Will." She breathed, picking it up. "You shouldn't upset yourself with such memories."

* * *

  
William entered the office of the council member from the day before, his eyes drifting idly from the man’s name plaque to an old photograph of a human woman framed on his desk. The senior reaper rushed in minutes later, briefcase in hand.  
  
“Mr Spears, sorry to keep you waiting.”  
  
“No problem, sir.”  
  
Both reapers took their seats. The council member passed a document across the desk to William, watching as he read it through. “This affirms that you consent to your transfer to Operations. I assume you and your partner have discussed the ramifications of this decision?”

The cap of a fountain pen popped as it was opened. “Yes … we did.” The nib hovered over the paper. “Sir, is there any chance I would be permitted to return to the dispatch in the future?”

“Of course. You were a stellar officer, Spears. As soon as a position opens up in your old department, you’re welcome to it. It’s just over staffed at the moment and the council believes it’s best to distribute our personal evenly.”

_As soon as a position opens up._

William breathed out a sigh as he signed his name across the line at the bottom.


	7. Snivelling little wretch.

Once all the paperwork had been completed for his transfer, William walked into his new office on the top floor of the branch. It was time to meet his new partner.

A few minutes later, after William had settled himself into the office and taken the seat at his new desk, a man knocked on the door and entered.

He was a short, blonde man with large framed glasses. "Oh. You're my new partner? Aren't you the one who lives with that gender bent freak?" He said, a look of disgust crossing his face.

William's eyebrow twitched. "My personal life is none of your concern. We are here to work, nothing more, nothing less."

The blonde man smirked at him evilly. "Yes that is very true. I shall look forward to working with you, as long as that man of yours doesn't come barging in here. He is such a nuisance. Once you have read your job role, please come to my office. It's down the hallway, to the left. We should begin our work as soon as possible."

With that he left, leaving William to sit there, fist clenched and blood boiling. He was certainly not going to enjoy his time here, not with that wretch as company.

 

* * *

Grell had tried her best to stay up until William came home, but fatigue had too much of a hold on her tonight. She knew the added stress of their current situation would make her body slow to mend—not that her wounds were trivial enough to be healed before he was back even in ideal conditions. The past hour she spent scrambling around the house, disposing of her tattered clothing and the blood soaked wipes in the receptacle outside and thoroughly cleaning her death scythe to conceal any evidence that the riots had taken a toll on her. Out of necessity, she dug through Will’s dresser and pulled on a pair of his hideous two piece pyjamas. They were baggy, but that was what she intended. She turned the lights out, drifting off to sleep as she prayed her lover would fail to notice her injuries at least until morning.

 

* * *

  
The end of William's shift was nearing and he actually found his new job role to be quite well suited to him.

He had spent the day organising the new cinematic records that had come to branch, moving them into piles based on the human's last name, so they could then be sent to the reaper library.  

He was also in charge of deciding  which ledger the names of humans destined for death were written in. He had a long list of reapers at the branch on his desk, with a list of their strengths and weaknesses, to help him decide.

His work colleague was still awful to be around, making disgusting remarks about Grell throughout the day. William had to stop himself from bludgeoning the man with his scythe on several occasions. He just hoped his partner would soon be able to bite his tongue.

William looked at his watch and realised it was time to finish his shift. He knew Grell would probably be asleep when he returned home, though he hoped that wouldn't be the case. He had missed her deeply.

The moon outside was bright enough to spill sufficient light into the bedroom. William entered the room, and first thing he noticed was his lover’s forehead peeking out from under a mountain of blankets, her pale skin illuminated in her favorite color by the glowing 4AM of the alarm clock’s display.

Against his better judgement, leant over and kissed her gently, his lips gracing her temple as light as a butterfly. Long eyelashes fluttered open, and Grell still sleep hazy, smiled wide as one hand reached to the nightstand to grope blindly for her glasses. The sheets fell open to reveal her unexpected choice of night time apparel.

William's brows furrowed, though he found the sight quite amusing. "What an earth are you wearing?"

"Never mind my attire, just come to bed." The look of panic in her eyes gave away the fact that something was wrong. 

"No. Why are you wearing my clothes?

"Because I want to." It became apparent that she was hiding something. She'd never wear something so baggy. 

"Take my clothes off."

"What? No … I will not."

"You're hiding something. Take them off."

"No!"

He jumped on the bed and before she could move, he had pulled her top up, revealing the large cut caused by her death scythe. "Grell … what happened?"

She tore herself away, letting the shirt settle back in place. “Please, can we not do this right now? I have to wake up again in two hours, Will.” She flopped back on to the mattress.    
William switched on the bent lamp on the table.

“Will please!” She buried her face into her pillow, her eyes not adjusting fast enough to the sudden light. “I need to sleep!”

Will was trying badly to contain his fury, but his voice was breaking. “Was it a demon? Who hurt you Grell, tell me! Was it another reaper? Was it that HR officer? I need to know so I can—”

His sentence was cut off, as the redhead shot up in bed and punched him sharply in the nose. 

"What an earth was that for?" He said, hand reaching up to the liquid seeping down his face. She'd given him a nose bleed. 

"I told you to let me sleep. I told you to just drop it!" She shouted, mouth turned up in a scowl. "Why won't you just—". Her angry expression fades to one of sadness. "Oh no, Will … we're … we're fighting again."


	8. Kiss, kiss, fall on my chainsaw.

To understand the emotions of a reaper from the perspective of human, one must understand the human components that reapers lack. Humans all have the capacity to forgive, because life for those creatures is short. Reapers, on the other hand, have developed the the ability to forgive because life for them is very long. They do not perish so easily. Their bodies are rather resilient to damage. And yet they are just as susceptible to heart ache, and grief, and loneliness as the rest of us. For that reason, William cared nothing about his broken nose and only little of Grell’s external injuries. It was her mind he wanted safe, that he wanted to protect—as impossible a task as that was. And he wanted to extensively harm whomever had done her wrong.  
  
He gripped the cartilage of his nose, grunting as his thumb and forefinger grated  it back into alignment. He sighed in relief, casting a wary eye at the bumbling, distraught woman beside him. “I didn’t mean to fight, Grell. I’m just—I’m just upset I let this happen to you.”  
  
"Don't be so stupid, Will." Her voice rose in anger again, before she tried to calm herself. "It's not at all your fault."  
  
"Then who's fault is it? You can hardly blame me for thinking such. The first day of starting work in another department and you come home like this. What am I supposed to think?"  
  
"It doesn't matter." She looked away from him. "Things just got a bit out of hand is all."  
  
 "What got out of hand? You're just blabbering now. Tell me who did this to you."  
  
"No one! Just drop it so we can go to bed." She lay back down on her pillow, turning away from him, hoping he would just respect her wishes.  
  
"Grell, just—."  
  
"Goodnight, William."  
  
“Grell, I need to—”  
  
“Goodnight. William.”  
  
Will turned, his feet taking him to the door. “I’ll be outside. I need some air.”  
  
The door closed behind him.  
  
…

Four thirty in the morning meant the streets were pretty much bare. A couple of drunks were gathered around a gas street lamp, whispering among themselves, but they paid William no mind. He was relieved, his bloodied suit wasn’t the greatest thing to be seen wearing in public.

“Hey boss,” a familiar voice came from around the corner, quieter than its typical intensity. "Y' know ya' supposed to be wearin' that red stuff on tha' inside."

Eric was still in his work clothes as well, although his tie loose and the tails of his shirt were out. He sat on an upturned crate, head tipped back to look at the night sky.

“Mr Slingby, what are you doing out here?"

“Eh. I just had an itch to get out of tha' house." He shrugged. "Been thinkin’ something's wrong with Alan. He not talkin', but I can tell he’s tryin’ to keep somethin’ from me.” The man smiled. "Considerin' everything at work, I don't know how you an' the lady do it, stickin' by each other through thick an' thin. Gives me an' Al someone to look up to, since we've hit this rough patch."

William sighed. He couldn't seem to escape the problems of work, no matter how hard he tried. "Have ... you asked him about it?" William asked, unsure if he even wanted to get into a conversation about Alan.

"Yeah. Plenty of times. He jus' says there's nothin' wrong but I can tell there's somethin'. Never seen him so sad before."

"I see. I'm sure he'll tell you eventually. He paused and added "Whatever the issue is."

Eric smiled sadly. "I'm kinda' worried that tha' issue is me.  That he just doesn't enjoy bein' with me anymore.

'No. That isn't the issue at all, far from it.' William thought sadly. "I'm sure it's not you. You should return home, aren't you due back at work in a few hours?"

"Yeah I am but I don't wanna' go home. I think Al needs some space right now. All I've done is bug tha' poor guy tha' past few days." William nodded and took a seat on the upturned crate next to Eric's. They sat there in silence for the next two hours, caught up in their own issues. Too busy mulling over the problems they were facing with their partners, too busy trying to figure out how to fix them.

 

* * *

 _Day Three_

  
Grell was in the dispatch department restroom, her shift already halfway over. Her tie, waist coat and shirt were in a pile on the tile floor. She leant up against the sink in only trousers and a cotton bra, fumbling with a roll of medical tape as her other hand held a gauze pad in place.

“Wow, my scrapes and nicks from yesterday don’t even hold a candle to yours,” an all too familiar voice said behind her.

Ronald eyed the angry red gashes on Grell’s midsection from her reflection in the mirror. The reaper didn’t turn to face him.

“If you’re looking to use the toilet, you should know you’re on the wrong side.” The end of the cloth tape stuck to itself. She tried to pry the piece off with her fingernail, but she couldn’t manage it one handed.

“I was looking for you, ya know,” he said, taking the roll out of her grasp and tearing off the mangled piece.

“Darling, if I wanted your help, I would have asked.”

“And you didn’t want William helpin’ this mornin’ either, am I right?”

“Give me that,” she snapped, snatch it back from him.

“That’s why ya didn’t bandage the cut on your back.” He regarded her coolly. “I’m supposed to be your partner, and I’m all for a good bit of fun, but when you're this careless, senpai, who da ya think you’re really hurtin’?”

She turned to glare at him. "Like I said, I didn't ask for your help and that includes your advice."

He sighed. "Yeah well, tough. I think ya need my advice right now. Honestly ya gotta' be more careful. We're already gunna' lose Alan. I don't want somethin' to happen to ya too. I couldn't deal wi' that."

"Don't bring Alan into this! I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Senpai—"

"Just shut up!"

Her hands flew up to grab at the reaper’s two-toned hair, pulling his face against her own. Their lips met warmly for a moment, before Grell’s shoulders were gripped roughly and she was shoved away from him.

“What the hell is wrong with ya?” he demanded. “You’re hurt; I get that. You know what, so am I. So is William, an’ Eric, an’ Alan. But that doesn’t mean ya can act out like that. Ya know, people get fired over stuff like that.”

He scooped up the roll of tape from the floor, tearing off strips and sticking them to the edge of the sink. Strips the perfect length for to Grell affix the sterile gauze to her skin. She kept her gaze downcast, each short rip making her flinch in shame.

Ronald stopped, setting what remained of the roll on the counter. “Get a grip, Sutcliff. We still got work to do,” he said, before storming out.

When she heard the door close behind him, it to all of her strength not to punch her fist into a mirror for the second time that week. She wouldn’t be able to survive anymore bad luck.


	9. Please say it isn't true.

_I have no reason to be so miserable. I have no right, when Eric and Alan have things so much worse._ William thought as he made his way back to his home.  _No right at all._

He reached the door and unlocked it. He knew Grell would be at work by now; he'd waited until she would be to avoid another argument.

Walking up the stairs and reaching the bedroom, he sighed.  The room was a mess: different sized bandages and strips of gauze strewn on the bed. Once he had cleaned up the room, he decided to get some sleep of his own. After all, he would need to be rested to deal with that pitiful excuse for a work partner.

Lying down and shutting his eyes, he tried to let his body drift off into sleep. Slumber never came, thoughts and worries clouding his mind.  _Will things ever be okay again?_

 

* * *

 

“ _Eric, would it be all right if … if Grell was my partner for the rest of today? I'd love to be with you, but—”_

“ _Al, y’ don’t need to ask for my permission. Especially if y’ need me to lay off some.”_

“ _No, it’s not that, it’s … look at her. Also, when Ron came back here, he looked like he was about to—”_

“ _Yeah, y' right.”_

Ronald’s fist broke the cheap plastic pen he was holding in two. Couldn’t the two love birds quiet it down? The cubicle walls were only so thin.

But letting that get to him was inexplicably selfish. They were a dead man and widow, at least in a few weeks time. They were allowed some frivolous chitchat.

Of all five of then, why was he the lucky one? It didn’t make sense at all … he didn’t deserve to  be—

No. He shouldn’t think about that. He shouldn’t feel bad about himself, either. Pity? Self-pity? Hadn’t one lifetime of that been enough?

Yet Grell had made him feel … lost? Repulsed was too strong of a word for he felt, and although betrayed was closer, he didn’t want to have to think about her that way. For the longest time, she was the only watching his back: be it with back alley demon confrontations or late paperwork. They understood each other, loved each other platonically to no end, held each other’s hair back when regurgitating the remnants of a fun night out. And just in a matter seconds, she managed to reduce him to a cheap  _thing_  that she could use to distract her from her problems.

“Ronnie!” Eric yelled over from his desk. Ronald squeezed his eyes shut, praying that the boisterous man would leave him be.  

Six long strides carried the other reaper to the side of his desk. “Hey, open your eyes. Looks like you an' me are partners for this next mission 'ere.” A folder flopped down in front of him. Ronald didn’t care to open it. “Wha' happened ta' your hand?”

"Nothin' important," the blonde stated, voice cold sounding.

"Erm … well it don't look like nothin'. What's tha' matter? Y' looked like y' was gunna' murder someone earlier."

"Drop it, Rick. I said it wasn't important."

"Well if y' gunna' be my partner for tha' rest of tha' day, y' need ta' chill out then."

Ronald felt his composure snap. "Chill out? Y' want me to chill out when Alan is dying and Grell just tried ta' snog my face off?"

He wasn't even aware of how loud the office was until it fell dead silent.

“I didn' mean … I just … ” His heart was pounding like it was trying to break out of his body. He scanned the room frantically for an escape, but the gaze of every one of his coworkers was already locked on him.    
    
Grell was death pale. Alan had his arms wrapped around himself, lip drawn nervously into his mouth from the guilt of what he had hidden from Eric.

His mouth went dry. Eric's confused expression was wiped away by a chuckle. “Y' got the whole gang in on this one, Ronnie, didn't y'? Wow, y' got me good!”

“ … Eric."

“Y' really are a prankster, y' know.”

“Eric.”

“You're kiddin' right … tell me y' pullin' my leg.”

“Ronnie, please, tell me y' jokin'”

“Ron, come on. Say y' jokin'”

“Ronald please just say y' fucking jokin' this isn't fuckin' funny anymore I need y' to tell me tha' this is a joke it has to be it can't be …”

“Fuckin' what's wrong with y' damnit? Ronnie fuck you. It's not difficult. Just fuckin' tell me wha' y' just said about Al was a joke.”

“Ronald, please. Please I'm beggin' y'.”

.....

His eyes never deviated from Ronald. If they did—if he looked at Alan—he would lose it. Before another word could be uttered, Ronald ported out of sight. 

"Alan … please tell me he's lyin'. Please tell me y' not …" 

Eric couldn't even bring himself to say the words. He still couldn't bring himself to look at the man he loved. His heart was pounding in his chest as he began to realise the truth of Ronald's words. 

Alan didn't answer. 

"Alan … talk ta' me!" 

There was a loud thud and a shriek from Grell. Eric finally turned to face Alan and his heart sunk. Alan had fallen to his knees and was on the floor, hand gripping his chest. 

Eric was by his side in and an instant, cradling Alan’s head as the man’s body convulsed in the agony. Grell was screaming things into his ear, but his mind was reeling too bad to make any sense of it. Not that anything she said would matter. 

The thorns of death were strangling Alan’s heart. There was no cure. He’d be dead that month.  

Best punchline ever.


	10. You brought me happiness and hope in my moment of despair.

Eric had taken Alan straight home after his attack had finished, not caring about work. Work didn't matter, not when Alan was in pain, not when he was dy—

Eric pushed that thought from his mind, as he opened the bedroom door with his foot, tray of warm soup in hand. Alan was sitting up in bed, skin pale and sweaty.

A spoonful was blown gently to cool it down, before it was raised to Alan's lips. He forced himself to eat it, even though he didn't feel hungry. Eric scooped another portion out of the bowl.  
  
"Eric ..."  
  
Too late, the spoon was at his mouth again. Eric made sure he safely swallowed it before lowering the utensil back to the bowl to refill it.  
  
"Eric stop. I'm not decrepit."  
  
Eric didn't answer him, once again lifting the spoon to his mouth.  
  
"Eric I'm not even hungry!" No answer.  
  
"Eric, are you even listening to me?"  
  
"Answer me!"  
  
The spoon stayed in front of his mouth. "Soup isn't going to help anything! It's not going to stop me from dy—"  
  
A sob slipped from Eric's mouth, before he dropped the spoon back into the soup and raced out of the room.  
  
.....  
  
  
He had to get out of there. It wouldn't be real until Alan said that word, and he'd do anything in his power to make sure that it never happened.  
  
The air cracked in front of him.  
  
"Eric," Alan said, porting into the hallway front of him. "We need to talk."  
  
"There's nothin' ta' talk 'bout." He said, voice cracking with every word.  
  
"Eric, please ..."  
  
"There's nothin' ta' talk 'bout!"  
  
"Eri—"  
  
"I don't wanna' hear it!"  
  
"I—"  
  
"Jus' shut up! I don't ... I can't ... This can't be happenin." Eric's legs gave way and his knees hit the floor.  
  
Fingers scraped against the thin carpet, sobs turning to shrieks and pleas. "I … can't lose … y'! I won't! I … won't let y' die!"  
  
Alan knelt, his hand cupping his lover's face.  
  
"Eric ... you're not letting me die. It was an accident, but I'm okay with that. Can we just ... can we just make the most of the time I have left?"  
  
Eric nodded, defeated, and allowed his lover to pull him into his arms.  
  
After a few minutes Alan spoke again. "You know, my soup is going to get cold at this rate."  
  
"I thought y' weren't hungry." Was Eric's solemn reply.  
  
"Maybe I just like you doting on me." Alan said with a smile.  
  
"Well y' can't 'ave tha' soup now. I'll 'ave to make y' a fresh batch."  
  
"Tomato this time. I wasn't really in the mood for chicken."  
  
Eric tried to fake a smile.  
  
“Eric, come on, stand up. I want to show you something.”

.....

They appeared in an alley located behind a set of run down shops. The sun was still bright and shining, but the narrow brick walls on either side of them provided the couple both shade and privacy.

“Al’, wha’ are y’ … ” Eric looked around, his eyes going wide when he recognised their surroundings. “Why did y’ bring me here?”

Alan dropped to one knee, frantically clearing the decaying remains of wooden pallets and other discarded goods from a certain section of the ground. Then he found it, a fault in the center of the cobble stones.

“Eric, do you remember what this is?” Alan asked, pointing to the indent on the floor.

“Here. Do you remember what this is?” Alan asked, motioning to the spot of impact.

Eric looked away.

"Do you remember what made this, Eric?"

"Yeah Al, of course I remember!" He shouted, turning suddenly. "I just can't … I can't … I don't want ta' picture y' there again."

"Why not? It was the happiest day of my life ... it was the day I met you."

"Al, don't say that about the day you d—"

"But it was for me," he said, slowly rising. "I didn't think anything good would come out of taking that jump, but you appeared … with your saw in your hand and your captivating green eyes. I hurt so bad everywhere, but you took my hand … a-and you promised me that when I got to the other side, I wouldn't be alone anymore … you'd be waiting for me … and I realised there was nothing to be sad about."

Their hands touched.

Alan continued, "I've had a good second go at things, don't you think? And when I'm gone, you'll know I'll be waiting for you, just the same."

Eric started to tear up again. "But I don't want y' to go, I can't have y' leave—" His sentence was cut short by a sharp shriek of pain. Alan fell to his knees, his hand slipping from Eric's. That hand moved to grip his chest and he bent forward, agony contorting his beautiful face.

Eric dropped to his knees at his love's side. "Al?"

"I … I'll be okay in a … minute. It'll pass soon … it always does," he wheezed out. 

Eric pulled him into his arms, waiting for the attack to pass. It didn't. The minutes slipped by and Alan's screams of pain only increased.

Eric's panic rose.  _No I can't lose you. Not yet. Not ever._  Grim outcomes whirled around in his head. "I'm gettin' y' ta' the hospital!"


	11. Desk time.

William was called into in the dispatch almost immediately after Ronald went AWOL. For the time being, William was temporarily reassigned to collections, at least until they were able to track down Ronald. This was the thing he desired most this past week … why did it feel so bittersweet?  
  
Grell had been hovering over him for the past twenty minutes. She had moved past the shocked depressed state she had been when he arrived, and was now purely angry.  
  
"I mean, how selfish of him, running off like that? Doesn't he get that he's not helping any of us by—"  
  
He tuned out her voice again. He didn't want to think about Ronald at the moment, or actually any of their predicaments, but he was glad he wasn't the one on the receiving end of Grell's rage this time around.  
  
"All he's doing is making it worse by making more work! You'd think out of any of us, he'd know—"  
  
"I have to return to Operations to collect some of my belongings," he interrupted. "I shall be back shortly."  
  
Grell paused mid-rant. "I'm coming with you," she stated.  
  
He turned to look at her. "Why?"  
  
"Well, maybe I want to cut that arse of a partner to shreds. You really do dislike him, and I need to take my frustration out on someone."  
  
William shook his head. "No Grell. That would be a bad idea."  
  
She moved close to him, her hands moving up his shirt. "Then help me calm down another way."  
  
" Well … very well." He could use some relaxation himself. "Then let us go to his office."  
  
She shot him a confused look. "But you just said—"  
  
"On his desk," was William's simple reply, as he pulled her with him out of his office.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
"Willy, what you doing here?" asked the last person on earth William and Grell wanted to see as they approached the office.  
  
"I could ask the same of you. Are you not scheduled for the shift later tonight?" William replied coolly to his former partner, the blonde reaper.  
  
"I don't think you should be minding my business when you can't even mind the sanctity of this department. Did I not say to leave that  _thing_  at home?"  
  
Grell raised an eyebrow, the hint of a sick grin crossing her face. William's emotions swung the opposite direction. He was about to summon his death scythe when he felt a hand rub against his ass. 

"Darling," Grell whispered into William's ear, leaning against his back. "Wasn't it you who said that reaping him would be a bad idea?"

He glared at Grell; she responded with a hard pinch. William let out a heated sigh, trying to sort through the mess of chemical signals in his brain to maintain his signature calm for at least one more minute.

  
"I shall be bringing your discriminatory behavior to the attention of the Council. Your moronic bigotry demonstrates that your ability as a reaper is stunted by narrowmindedness, and you will forever be nothing more than middle management. Good day, sir," William said as Grell pulled him into the expartner's office, shutting the door behind them. The other reaper was too stunned to protest.

......

  
Deep kisses and gropes were exchanged quickly before Grell began to remove his clothes. She kissed down his neck as her hand slipped into his underwear. 

His hands moved to slide her tie from her, before he unbuttoned her blouse. As the last button was undone and her blouse opened, he paused. 

"Grell … you're still badly injured. We shouldn't do this with your body like this."

"Don't be silly, Will. Just be careful with me," she stated, fluttering her lashes at him.

"No, Grell—"

"Please, I'm dying for some intimacy. Especially after last night."

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"What is pleasure without a little pain?"

He smiled softly at her. "All right, if that is what you wish."

William took the pads of her fingers stroking down the length of his cock as a sign of affirmation. He let out a deep moan, pulling her hips closer to him. Her slacks were pulled down, and he let his hands trail over the back of her panties, to right where the thin band of lace around her leg turned into soft skin. 

Her thumb rubbed over his slit, causing his fingers to dig into her thighs before he could remember to be gentle. William tried to move his hand away, but Grell grabbed his wrist with her free hand, holding his palm firmly in place against her ass.  

"Mhm … do you suppose he's still out there, listening to all of this?" she asked.

William glared at her, more flustered that she was continuing to play with him in his tightening underwear.

"Grell."

"What's wrong, darling? I just want to make sure you're completely into it this time," she smirked, bowing slightly to lick abdominals, running her warm tongue up from the bottom of his sternum to his collar bone.

"Agh … Grell!"

"Shush, darling. Just enjoy the moment." Her hand encircled him, pumping him slowly.

"Grell! At least undress me properly, instead of just teasing me like this. It chaffs."

"But doesn't that just make it even more exciting? A bit of pain to intensify the pleasure?"

William's eyebrow twitched. "I'm already excited enough, isn't that plain to see?"

She huffed, moving her hand out of his underwear, to pull them down, along with his trousers. "Fine. If someone can't wait even a few minutes."

He pushed her down on the desk then. "I really cannot wait."

William tenderly slid her underwear to her ankles, stopping to plant hasty kisses on her inner leg, her knee, the tops of her feet, before removing the article of clothing completely. He lifted her leg by the calf, bringing two moist fingers to her entrance. 

Grell moaned into his touches, slow teasing circles until he pushed the digits into her. 

The fingers slid in and out of her, William making sure to press them into her spot. This evoked heavy breaths from her as she groaned out his name. The fingers scissored, stretching her muscles, until a third was added. After a while longer spent on preparation, William pulled away.

Spitting into his hands, he lubed himself up, before pulling her hips forward and off of the desk slightly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he lined himself up. Pushing in, he made sure to be gentle with his thrusts, even when he built up speed.

His name was called out again, as he pressed against her spot, hand moving to encircle and pump her.

A long, tender love making session ensued, her muscles clenching around his as she reached orgasm. With a few more thrusts he also came. 

Sweat glistened on his forehead. He pulled out, bending forward to rest his chest lightly against hers. It had been just what they both needed, a distraction.


	12. Ronald.

A wrapped condom skid across the table, stopping right in front of a full shot glass. Ronald looked up at his superior, incredulous.

"Down it, bitch," Grell ordered, a smile on her freshly lipsticked mouth. She plopped her rear into her seat across from him in the booth.

"Ooh, such strong language. And from a lady, no less" Ronald said, feigning insult. The glass was already raised to his lips. He knocked it back fast, his head shaking and his eyes squeezing shut immediately. He had forgotten how many drinks that made for him … hopeful he was still in the single digits. Although judging by small mountain of condoms and tampons between them, it wasn't likely.

"Darling, there was absolutely nothing ladylike about what I had to do to get that. Let's just say it was spare." She switched his empty glass out for another full one. "Your turn. Mhm, I've been making you go for too many females, haven't I? Let's even you out a bit. Hmm … oh! Him, at the counter with the cut sleeves and the tongue bar."

"Tongue bar? How can y' tell from here tha' he has a … shit, please tell me y' didn't—"

"If you don't think you'd like it … keep your mouth closed."

"Not a chance, senpai. I can't afford to be havin' too many more of these," he said, flicking the side of the shot glass. "… if the boss is anyway how y' describe him to me. Don't wanna be hungover on my first day in, do I? I'm goin' and givin' tha' man over there the best damn snog of his life."

Grell grinned at him. "Well you don't have to worry about Will, darling. He's such a brute, but I love it ever so much. He's the only man for me."

Ronald laughed, before speaking again. "I'll be leaving tha' kiss to y' then."

"I should think so. Though I don't mind a three way if I ever have my way with him. So, are you looking forward to starting collections? I know I'm looking forward to being partnered with you."

Ronald averted her gaze. "I don't know. I mean it sounds like fun, but I've heard some shitty rumours."

"Like what?"

"Y' know. Gettin' caught up wi' rouge records. Y' ge' tha' thorns of death if tha' happens, right?"

"Yes you do. Don't worry yourself though, darling. I'll collect the one thousand human souls needed to cure you. I have taken quite a liking to you."

"One thousand souls? What's tha' all 'bout? There's really a cure?"

"Sure is hunny. If someone has the thorns, you can cure them with those souls. It's just a rumour and not many people know about it, but I believe it to be true."

"It better be," Ronald said as he slid out of the booth, "'Cause one of these days I'm bound ta' fuck up real good, an' I'm gonna hold ya' to your promise ta' save my sorry ass." He turned and made a beeline for his target.

"Ooh! Bite down on his lip a little! He likes that!" Grell called after him.

 

* * *

 

Ronald stared at the bottom of his empty glass. No doubt the other reapers were out searching for him at this point, but he still didn't have it him to face Eric and the rest as of yet.

The bartender set another beer in front of him. "This one's on the house, but after this, I'm cuttin' you off. Got it?"

Ronald nodded dumbly. He was useless. He was pathetic. He had the least amount of problems compared to the others, and the only thing he could do about it was run away and get day drunk. Some friend he was.

He left the bar at around 5pm, the alcohol already beginning to wear off.

He spotted a young female walking across the street. She wasn't unattractive; she was simply unremarkably ordinary. And she didn't seem to be aware of her surroundings either. In that moment, his mind became set on what he had to do. He had to save Alan. Without him, everyone else at the branch would suffer. His friends would suffer.

Plus Alan was the sweetest, kindest man he had ever met. He deserved to live, more than this person in front of him ever could.

He crept behind her, his scythe appearing at his side and then paused for a moment. Could he really commit a murder?

No, he had to be the one to do this. He was the one at Alan's side when he first contracted the thorns. In part, he blamed himself. He should have protected Alan. He should have done something, anything.

The lawnmower revved as he brought the scythe down upon her, glad for the fact that she didn't scream. Records fluttered around in the air as her soul became contained within his scythe.

He stood for a moment, in shock at his own actions. Shaking the regret from his head, he told himself that it was okay to do this. Anyone in his current situation would do the same.

With that in mind, the next souls were harvested, pulled in between the rotating blades of his scythe. Five down, 995 left to go.


	13. Two couples.

William pulled his trousers back up and climbed on to the desk, rolling over to lie next to Grell, both of them panting softly.   
  
“We should leave shortly. That bigot is likely to return soon enough,” William finally said, righting his skewed glasses.   
  
Grell let out a content hum, turning to face him. “Darling, you're going to have to give me a minute for my legs to start working again.”   
  
She expected at least a trace of smile from him, even reserved as he was. Instead, his fingers combed through her hair, then moved to caress her cheek.   
  
“I love you, Grell. I don't believe I tell you that often enough,” he said in earnest. “I … I wouldn't be able to … continue existing … if it were you that was—”   
  
Grell pulled away. “Will, we need to stop moping around and come to terms with the fact that Alan is going to die. We need to accept it.”   
  
William frowned and sat up, looking over at her. "I know that."   
  
"And we need to accept that it's going to affect Eric the worst. We need to be there for him and—"   
  
"I know!" He slammed his palm down on the desk. "Contrary to popular belief in this branch, I do have the capacity to feel and comprehend emotions!"   
  
"Then why don't you show them?" Grell snapped.   
  
"I am not at liberty to.” He looked away. “You must understand."   
  
She glared at him. "No, I really don't. Really William, what do you gain from being such a brick all the time?"   
  
"I have to be the strong one, Grell! I can't … I can't be …" He let out a long sigh. "I'm their boss, after all."   
  
Grell clambered off of the desk, pulling her clothes on quickly. "You haven't been acting very strong as of late, crying like a pitiful child. There's no point trying to act coldly towards everyone again now. That won't help anyone." With that, she stormed out.   
  
The door slammed shut. William sat up on the desk, head in his hands. If only she knew that the feelings he kept masked was for his own sake, not for anyone else. How entirely selfish of him.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Alan woke up in a bed that didn't belong to him. A tug at the inside of his elbow led him to discover an IV in his arm. Monitors were idly making their usual chirps and beeps around him. He looked over to his side and found Eric dozing off in a hospital chair.   
  
He turned his head away from his partner. It was the most peaceful that he had seen him in a while. At least since finding out about Alan's thorns deleted three words. All Eric ever seemed to do now was cry. Not that Alan could blame him; he would do exactly the same thing if their roles were reversed. In fact, he couldn't imagine how he would even cope if Eric in his place, losing the fight with the illness—the one losing his life.   
  
Though Alan would never say such, it hurt to just look at Eric now. To see the pain in those beautiful green eyes. If only he had been more careful that night, Eric's heart wouldn't be breaking right in front of him.   
  
His thoughts were cut off by a sharp pain in his chest. He coughed loudly. Another pain made him shoot up into a sitting position, hand gripping the flesh over his heart.   
  
The doctors were right, he was getting worse. He really did only have a few weeks left to live.   
  
Another cough was followed by a shriek of agony. Eric was startled awake and was soon at Alan's side on the bed, pulling Alan to his chest and soothing his hair, tears falling from both of their eyes.   
  
“Eric,” Alan croaked, his voice dry.   
  
Eric gently squeezed Alan's thin arm, communicating wordlessly that he was listening.   
  
Alan relaxed against his body. “I'm sorry … I didn't mean to wake you.”   
  
Eric kissed Alan's temple, then whispered kindly, “It's alright. Don't y' worry about it.”   
  
“Can you—” Cough. “Can you call the doctor in … please?”   
  
“Ya' sure.” The bed creaked as Eric slid off of it, his concerned gaze never leaving Alan.   
  
“And … can you wait outside?” Alan looked away. “I want to speak to him privately.”   
  
Eric failed to hide the shadow of a frown that crossed his face. He breathed out a deep breath. “Of course,” he said, before ducking out off the room.   
  
As the doctor entered the room, Alan coughed again into his hand. Pulling it away, he saw splatters of bright red blood against his palm.   
  
"Mr Humphries, how are you feeling today?"   
  
"I'm fine, thank you." He flashed a fake smile, hand falling to his side to hide the evidence of his lie. "Tell me, how long do I have left?"   
  
The doctor frowned at him. "Do you really wish to know?"   
  
"I do."   
  
"As you already know, this illness progresses quickly…"   
  
"Please, just tell me."   
  
"Judging by your current symptoms, I would estimate three weeks, maximum."   
  
Alan let out a shaky breath. His end was drawing near, far too quickly. "When may I return to work?"   
  
The doctor didn't answer for a moment.  "Mr Humphries, you are aware that continuing to work will not be possible. Soon you will be moved to a hospice."   
  
"I wish to return tomorrow."   
  
"You—"   
  
"I don't want to die in a hospital bed. I … want to return to work, to be with my friends."   
  
"In your condition, I would not recommend that. Your body will deteriorate even faster should you expend more energy than what is essential."   
  
"I don't … care. I …" He paused to catch his breath. "That is my wish."   
  
"Are you absolutely certain?"   
  
"Yes. Please … get me the discharge papers. I wish to leave … as soon as possible."   
  
"If that is what you request, I do not have the authority to deny a patient their dying wish." With that, he left. 


	14. Revelations

 Eric leaned against the wall outside the hospital room Alan was staying in, staring at the flickering florescent light on the ceiling. The world was falling apart around him: Grell and William fighting, Ronald missing, Alan dy—

Alan was dying.

His fingernails dug into the skin of his palms. He would not let himself cry over this. He would not cry. He wouldn't—

A tear escaped him. He shut his eyes in an attempt to starve off more.

A hand was placed gently on his shoulder.

“Eric.”

The larger man turned around. "Ron, wha' are ya'-."

"We need ta' go somewhere private. There's somethin' I need ta' tell y'."

"I'm not leavin'—"

A finger was pressed to his lips. "I've ... found a way to save Alan." Ronald whispered. "But we have ta' go. Now." He grabbed hold of Eric's wrist and ported from the hallway.

.......

They ended up in a large, deserted field, nothing but grass as far as the eye could see. "Ya' best not be messin' me about. After bein' missin' - worryin' everyone sick and then ya' say somethin' like tha'?"

"I'm not jokin'."

"Then tell me how."

Ronald rubbed the back of his head. "Ya' not exactly goin' ta' like this."

"I don't c—"

"It's pretty grim."

"Jus' fuckin' tell me!"

He let out sigh. "Y' 'ave ta' collect a thousand pure human souls."

Eric stared at him for a while. That idea both shocked and sickened him. Such a sin to commit. He shook that thought from his mind. This was Alan's life on the line. His Alan. For him, he would commit any sin.  He sucked in a breath. “I'll do it, Ronnie.”

“Actually, y' don't have ta' … I'm doing it. I just need your help to get the rest of them.”

Two large hands grabbed at Ronald's shoulders, shaking him.

“Fuck! Tell me ya' didn't—”

“Rick! What the hell, you're hurtin' me!”

“Have ya' killed been killing people?”

“Let me go y' fuckin' giant!”

“Answer me.”

“Yes!”

Eric's hands fell away. “How many?” he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

 “Only two, three hundred.”

“Shit.”

“I know, I need y' to help me or I'm never gunna finish before Al—”

“No. Ya' shouldn't be the one murdering innocent people.”

“Why not? I had to do something!”

“Ya' can't kill innocent people!”

“Grell did it! At least this is for the right reason!”

“What Grell did was wrong! What you're doing is wrong! Can't ya' see that?!”

“But Eric—!”

“No, Ronald. It's wrong.”

Ronald backed away in disgust. “I thought you'd do anything for Al, but tha' was just a load of talk, wasn't it? It's sad … I thought y' loved him more than that.”

“Ronnie, wait!” Eric yelled, but he was too late. The other reaper had already ported away.

 .......

The hospital door was pushed open, a flash of red entering the room. "How are you feeling, darling?" Grell asked.

Alan looked at her and flashed a fake smile. "I'm good, thank you. I'm returning to work tomorow. Will be nice to see everyone again."

Grell blinked at him. Instead of telling him that he was too sick, which is what she thought, she said. "That's fabulous. I really cannot wait."

"Will you port me home please?"

"Of course. Anything for a cutie like you."

"Thank you." Alan looked away. "You ... didn't see Eric on the way to my room, did you? He was supposed to be waiting outside but the doctor couldn't find him."

"No I didn't."

"Oh, okay." Alan felt tears pricking at his eyes. How could Eric leave him at a time like this?

* * *

  
William entered the Council member's office, feeling a bit anxious. The Higher Ups rarely interacted with the Collections personnel, and receiving request for a private meeting was almost unheard of. Almost unheard of … the last time he had been summoned to the office was years ago when he was told to capture Grell so that she could stand trail for her stint as Jack The Ripper. The fallout of that had not been pleasant, to say the least.

“Mr Spears” said the older reaper from his desk. “Take a seat. There is something that we need to discuss pertaining to your team. To be precise, the existence of a rogue officer.”

“With all due respect sir, a rogue officer?”

"A large number of recent deaths with unrecoverable souls, and signs that a reaper … would you shut the door please? You do understand the gravity of this situa—”

The door closed, blocking any further sound from leaving the room.


	15. He means the world to me!

Ronald trapsed back into the bar where he had drank the previous day. Eric's words had made him doubt if what he was doing was the right thing. They had made him depressed and what better way to escape said issues than to drown them in litres upon litres of beer?

As he sat on a stool at the bar, the bartender behind it eyed him, waiting to take his order.

"Bottle of Newcastle Ale, please," the reaper said, sliding a note across to him.

The beer and change was placed in front of Ronald and he let out a sigh. That was soon replaced by a gasp and a flinch, a large hand grabbing his shoulder.

"Ronald, we need ta' talk."

Ronald shrugged Eric off his shoulder, regarding him coldly. “Think we're done talking. Ya' already made it clear ta' me tha' Al's not worth a thing to ya'.”

His cheek was slammed against the counter. Ronald let out a pained cry as he struggled to escape.

“Don' y' _ever_ fuckin' say that. He's the DAMN WORLD to me.”

The bartender and the other patrons of the establishment had gone quiet and turned to watch them.

“LET ME GO!” he spluttered against the wood surface.

Eric gave the other reaper one final shove before letting him up. He turned to the spectators, apologetic.

“Sorry folks. Didn't mean ta' cause a scene.”

.......

Ronald had ported from the bar as quickly as possible after the fight. This time however, Eric wasn't going to let him escape that easily. He wasn't going to let Ronald kill another innocent person. Alan wouldn't want it to be this way.

Deciding that the best place to find Ronald was at his flat, he ported to the building that housed it. Surely enough, he saw that Ronald's living room light was on. Now, he just had to sit and wait.

 

* * *

 

“…and onto the the final matter of business,” said the Council Member, clearing his throat. “Your temporary partner from Operations.”

“Yes?” William asked, a bit more nervous than he wanted to be.

“He's being permanently removed from his position at the Dispatch.”

“I'm sorry, did you just say that—”

“His mistreatment of other members of this establishment has violated our code of ethics. However, in the future, you will do well to report such instances of harassment through the proper channels, instead of enacting your petty revenge with your subordinate as your accomplice. I do not wish to have you removed as well. Am I clear, Mr Spears?”

William dry swallowed, not wanting to think about the fates of reapers no longer affiliated with the Dispatch. “Yes, sir.”

“Then go find the reaper who's gone rogue and bring them back here. Your position depends on it.”

William nodded and left, knowing exactly where he needed to search.

........

William had ported to Alan's hospital room, thinking that he would be there, hopefully with Eric by his bedside. Having found the room empty, he'd asked reception of Alan's whereabouts, worried that the worst outcome may have already befallen the brunette reaper.

Finding that Alan had been discharged, William ported to his home, where he now stood, knuckles rapping on dark oak. It was answered quicker than the supervision had expected, Grell looking at him. "Will? What are you doing here?"

"I need to speak to reaper Humphries. Alone."

"Well you can't. He's sleeping right now. What's the matter?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with. Is reaper Slingby present instead?"

Grell eyed him with curiosity. "No?"

"Oh. Any idea of where he may have gone?"

"William, why are you talking to me like one of your subordinates? What the hell is going on?"

"Like I said—"

"I don't care what you think!" She'd noticed the slight flicker of concern across his face at realising Eric wasn't at home. "I know something is wrong. Just tell me."

"There is nothing—"

"Yes there is! We're supposed to be partners! Don't hide things from me."

William adjusted his glasses. "I wish not to … trouble you."

"Tell me. Now!"

"Grell—"

"Now!"

His gaze shifted to the ground. "Very well but please, come outside. I wish for Humphries not to hear this."


End file.
